


Day 6: clothed getting off

by readbetweenthelions



Series: 30-day Kurotsukki Smut Challenge [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 21:42:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1957125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readbetweenthelions/pseuds/readbetweenthelions





	Day 6: clothed getting off

“Meet you in the supply closet by the locker room,” Kuroo whispers across the net. His lips barely move, so that others won’t see and notice and ask what they’re doing. Tsukishima gives him a slight nod, one that he would swear he hadn’t, if someone were to ask him about it.

Kuroo says something to his teammates as the two teams walk off the court, back to their coaches and managers. Tsukishima tries to act normally, following behind the bickering backs of Hinata and Kageyama, wiping sweat from his forehead with the edge of his jersey. After getting a long drink of water from a bottle Shimizu hands him, Tsukishima excuses himself, hoping his teammates will think he’s just going to the bathroom or something, instead of that supply closet where he knows Kuroo is waiting. Tsukishima finds the closet easily, knowing it’s only a few doors down from the locker room. He checks the hallway to his left and right with furtive glances, making certain no one sees him as he slips into the supply closet.

Inside, Kuroo leans his back against a shelf stacked with cleaning products. He looks out from under that ruff of black hair with a smirk – not that this is a change from usual. Tsukishima closes the door behind himself and locks it.

“What are we doing in here?” Tsukishima asks.

“I think you know what we’re doing in here,” Kuroo says flatly, cocking his head to one side a little. Without warning, Kuroo stands from his slouching position and pulls Tsukishima in to kiss him with a hand on the back of Tsukishima’s neck.

They’ve done this before, making out in secret, after practice, _during_ practice, any time they’re in close quarters and they can slip away. It serves them both well not to let anyone know about what they’re doing. After all, they’re rivals, as much as Kuroo tries to act like some kind of teacher to Tsukishima; and Tsukishima, for his part, is more than a little embarrassed about the situation, and worries about getting caught with the very _male_ captain of the volleyball team of his school’s “fated rival.” Besides. Looking like they _care_ about each other, about something other than themselves and winning, is completely out of the question for both of them. Not that they actually _do_ care about each other, or anything. They just don’t want it to _look_ like it.

Kuroo maneuvers to push Tsukishima against a bare section of wall. Tsukishima’s shoulder blades slam against the concrete wall – Kuroo has always been a little rough when he gets excited. Kuroo’s mouth travels away from Tsukishima’s to trail sloppy kisses along his jaw. Kuroo smells like sweat and the product in his hair, like his cheap body wash and cheaper cologne and _boy_. Tsukishima turns his face a little to take in that scent. It’s not like he _loves_ that scent or anything, but he _is_ attached to it; given that Kuroo’s scent is the only thing that fills his nostrils when they get together like this, it’s only natural that he’d associate it with the kinds of pleasurable sensations that kissing Kuroo brings.

Kuroo is pressed close to him and he grinds his hips experimentally against Tsukishima’s. The sensation is sweet and Tsukishima immediately wants more. It feels good, and Tsukishima moans quietly into Kuroo’s mouth. Picking up on this wish with a smirk, Kuroo grinds hard against him, again and again.

“Ah…” Tsukishima exclaims, breaking away from the kiss to lean his head back in appreciation.

“Yeah?” Kuroo says. _Do you like this? Should I go on?_ Tsukishima gives a curt nod. With a soft huff of laughter, Kuroo redoubles his efforts.

Tsukishima ruts back against Kuroo, holding Kuroo’s hips close with firm hands on Kuroo’s low back, just above Kuroo’s ass. Kuroo hangs on to Tsukishima, his arms wrapped around the back of Tsukishima’s neck, mostly to pull him close and keep him pinned against Kuroo’s body. Much easier to get the benefits of friction, that way. This is more than they’ve done before. Tsukishima can feel himself getting hard, can feel Kuroo hard against him through their volleyball shorts.

This continues for what feels like a long time, grinding against each other, hot and frantic and desperate. They kiss roughly, determined to get each other off in the small amount of time they have. The sound of their panting and soft groans fills the small closet, but they keep any louder noises muffled for fear of discovery.

Tsukishima becomes increasingly aware of constraints on their time, knowing that if they are absent for too long, someone will come looking for them. In the dim light from the lone bulb in the closet, there’s an attractive flush to Kuroo’s face. _God_ this feels good, and it’s so much more of a release of tension than just making out. The kind of rough, frenetic kissing they usually do seems chaste in comparison to this.

“I’m… ah… I’m gonna…” Kuroo pants. Tsukishima looks down at him, and renews his efforts, making sure their cocks are rubbing together through the layers of fabric.

Kuroo comes with a soft groan, his neck bent down and his face pressed into Tsukishima’s shoulder. Tsukishima can feel the quick rise and fall of Kuroo’s chest against him as he tries to catch his breath.

“Hah,” Tsukishima breathes. He leans his head back against the wall and smirks. “You came _first_.”

“This isn’t a race,” Kuroo says. He’s still pushing his hips hard against Tsukishima’s. Tsukishima thinks maybe he shouldn’t gloat, since he’s so fucking close himself; it’s practically chance that Kuroo had come before he had, after all. It still feels like a victory, though.

Kuroo disentangles one of his arms from where they are still around Tsukishima’s neck. He reaches down between the two of them and grabs Tsukishima’s dick through the fabric of his underwear and volleyball shorts.

Tsukishima’s breath catches in his throat as he gasps in reaction to Kuroo’s touch. “You couldn’t have done that _before?_ ”

“It was no fun to do it before,” Kuroo says. His mouth is dangerously close to Tsukishima’s ear as he whispers, “I’m going to make you come, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima would bristle at the nickname, but he’s much too close to his climax to care. His breaths are short and puffing warm against Kuroo’s neck. Kuroo’s hand is firm against Tsukishima’s cock through his clothes and Tsukishima does most of the work, desperately twitching his hips to push himself closer.

Kuroo is watching his face when Tsukishima finally comes, a barely-stifled moan in his throat – a fact Tsukishima isn’t too happy about, since he is certain the expression on his face is not a dignified one. Tsukishima can feel his own cum dripping, warm, down his skin under his pants. Really, the whole situation isn’t that dignified, when he thinks about it.

“Hah,” Kuroo says, a little triumphantly. He takes a step backwards, the two of them finally supporting their own weight independent of one another after so long pressed together. “That was fun. We should do it again sometime.”

Tsukishima straightens, wipes some of Kuroo’s saliva from his face, and looks to the grinning boy in front of him. “Yeah,” Tsukishima says. “We should. Sometime.”

“I’ll leave first,” Kuroo says. “Give it a minute or two, then you leave.” Tsukishima nods. Kuroo gives him a final, quick kiss and adds, “See you on the court.”

Kuroo slips out of the supply closet, leaving Tsukishima to gather himself for a moment in the half-light. His heart is still beating fast in his chest, from exhilaration and the release of his orgasm. Should he have thanked Kuroo, or something? Nah. Kuroo would probably only make fun of him if he did.

Tsukishima waits for a minute before slipping covertly out of the supply closet. He’ll just run to the bathroom really quick, clean the cum out of his underwear, and head back to the gym to start the second practice match. He tries to hurry down the hall, hoping no one will discover him.

“Tsukishima!” someone calls. It surprises Tsukishima so much he startles, then whips his head around to look at the speaker. It’s Coach Ukai. “Where have you been? Go drink some water and get back in the gym.”

“B – ” Tsukishima stammers, trying to tell his coach where he’d been headed, to ask for permission. “Bathroom…?”

Ukai misunderstands. “Well, you certainly took a long time in there! Hope you feel better now.” With a hand on Tsukishima’s back, Ukai leads him back to the gym.

_Nooo…_ Tsukishima thinks, mortification dragging at him. At this rate, Tsukishima is going to have to play another match with cum in his pants, robbed of his chance to clean himself up before going back to the court. And it’s _just his luck_ that he’s going to have to play that match on the other side of the net from Kuroo, who’s going to watch him with those _eyes_ and he’s going to _know._ He’s going to _know_ that he’s the one who put Tsukishima in this situation. God damn it. God damn him. God damn Kuroo to _hell_. He’s going to _crush_ him at volleyball for this.


End file.
